top of page

On the Revolution That is ME   ODUS

X

A personal reflection on witnessing the power of MeXodus on stage.

By: Rebekah D. Mason Barrera

Created and performed by Brian Quijada and Nygel D. Robinson, and directed by David Mendizábal, this live-looping hip-hop musical takes audiences on an untold journey of the Underground Railroad heading south to Mexico—but with sick beats.

X

Todos estamos juntos en esto.

X

The revolutionary play ME  ODUS has returned to New York with its first preview on March 6, 2026, for its 10-week run through May 17 at The Daryl Roth Theatre. Buckle up for a fantastic voyage where you will travel through both space and time with Nygel D. Robinson, and Brian Quijada—your tour guides on the journey that is Mexodus. As these two artists embrace dozens of musical instruments, they weave a story into bumping rhythms to create a radically welcoming space for everyone. And every time they perform this show, they are changing the world. 

​

With this hip hop live-looped musical, Mr. Brian Quijada and Mr. Nygel D. Robinson with David Mendizábal's impeccable direction have reinvented what musical theater can be. It tells thstory of approximately 4,000 to 10,000 Black people who escaped U.S. slavery by running toward freedom on the Underground Railroad that went south toward Mexico. Mexodus showed me a piece of myself that I had not yet fully grasped, let alone witnessed on stage.  

​

I hope to see you at the Daryl Roth Theatre in NYC before it closes May 17! But there is good news., because if you miss this NYC run, they are on their way to the Pasadena Playhouse July 8 -August 2, 2026. 

​​​​It is a piece of my story that I saw on stage, and maybe it is a piece of yours. It is a story of Black and Brown people, who have rallied together against all odds, to form some of the most impactful and united fronts against mutual oppressors. 

​​Imagine walking into a room to discover that you are surrounded by all of your ancestors, hundreds and hundreds of those who came before you. For better or worse, they bring with them stories which have never been allowed to be spoken, let alone written down. No one ever got the chance to tell these stories on a mountain, they were whispered secrets, hidden under bushels, in the dark of night. 

​

​​​​​​Have you ever been utterly transformed in just 100 minutes? Have you ever looked across a room at a perfect stranger and somehow seen yourself in their story? Ever walked into a room filled with hundreds of strangers and left as a part of a community? Have you ever experienced something so beautiful that you were left connected, in solidarity, with all of humanity, suddenly aware that the air you breathe is a gift from your ancestors? 

​

                    I have.​​​

 

The first time I experienced the revolution that is Mexodus in Baltimore as it unfolded on stage before me, something inside me broke wide open. —and every time since—I’ve recognized my own story as a Mexican American in its storytelling and passion. I’ve come to understand that my path caring for unaccompanied children detained by DHS, and later working as a poverty lawyer and advocate, is part of the greatest inheritance I’ve ever received. Something which I have not been able to shake since. I recognized myself, as a Mexican American from Texas, in that story. As a woman who had recently reconnected with the fruit and cotton picking stories of my own ancestors across the fields of Texas and California, as a woman who's family had the border cross us, I felt more connected to community than ever before.

​​

As Quijada embraces the songs and cries of our shared Latino people as he strums his guitar and sings and cries out about the life he longs for free from oppression, effortlessly transitioning from English to Spanish, my heart sings along with him. And as Robinson sings out that he is finally free, his sweet voice is perfection and that moment of long-hard-fought freed is pure magic brought to life in the theater.​ 

​​​​​At the heart of the show is both a warning and a comfort, todos estamos juntos en esto; we are all in this together. Whether or not folks can admit it, we are all in this together. 

 

And why is it that the caged bird still sings? Because he is prepping for the day that he will be free! â€‹You do not want to miss out on this run of the transformative theater experience Mexodus.

Todos estamos juntos en esto.

I believe in community storytelling, equity and justice, and joy as resistance.

  • Instagram
  • LinkedIn
  • YouTube

Rebekah D. Mason Barrera (C) 2026

bottom of page